Unknown, Unseen
by Locora
Summary: When Ed exchanged his life for Al’s for the last time, he didn’t quite get to London. Now he’s back, but Al’s not sure he can deal with this new Ed.
1. Prolouge

**Title:** Unknown, Unseen

**Author: **Lacora

**Rated: **M (for safety)

**Disclaimer:** Anything recognizable from the FMA series does not belong to me.

**Summary:** When Ed exchanged his life for Al's for the last time, he didn't quite get to London. Now he's back, but Al's not sure he can deal with this new Ed.

* * *

**Prologue**

The rain fell in large quantities. It gathered in the streets, ran down the slopes and dips of the roads, soaked into the military blue uniforms of the countless soldiers running below, oblivious to the chaos and grief of the world around. Rain had no feeling. It made itself known in moments of happiness, sadness, anger, always there, always watching.

Below ground, shouts could be heard, echoing off the vast stone walls, curling upwards into the world above. The sharp clang of metal on metal, the thud of bodies meshed together in an intricate dance of battle; one head of gold, gold like ripened wheat, ready to harvest, the other blacker than the night, except the slight green sheen that shimmered in the dim lighting.

It ended abruptly. The still silence that followed settled over the room and weighed down on the others, smothering their breath and seemed to still time. The hollow clanking of metal broke the heavy silence, evaporating it, disintegrating it.

"Nii-san! Nii-san!"

There was no response, no utterance to acknowledge the timid voice.

"Nii-san! Answer me…" the voice wailed, though no tears stained the steel cheeks. "No, no!" it continued, it's tone rising to a fearful pitch.

Hesitantly, desperate hands met together in an almost silent clap, then stretched over the body. Light flared, blinding the other occupants of the room. When it faded, the creature that wasn't quite human was gone.

The building gave a shudder, small chunks of ceiling falling and splintering into fragments as they crashed against the floor.

"The buildings not going to hold for much longer!" a voice hollered over the loud cracking of the larger parts of the roof above them.

In a mad dash, a mass of bodies flung themselves toward the exit, pushing their way through with no concern for their companions, leaving the now dead body and woman alone to rescue themselves. Not two minutes later, the body coughed, blood spurting from the open mouth and dribbling down the chin.

"Al?" it said, voice a quiet hopefulness. "Al?" No answer. "Al?" The body jerked, sitting up so it could survey the room. "Al?" Again, no answer, though this time, an empty room was there to accompany the silence.

"Edward! You're not dead… Al… he did something. And… now you're alive."

Eyes of fiery gold widened slightly, realization dawning slowly. Al was gone, in exchange for the life he now possessed.

"Rose, go. Take the baby and go."

"But, what about you Edward?"

"I'll be right behind you," he replied, "now go! And don't wait for me, don't look back."

He smiled for a brief moment, as if to reassure the woman that it would all be fine. Rose nodded, her arms clutching at the wrapped bundle, then stood and made her way out, steps firm and sure. When she had reached the long tunnel leading outward, she cast a last look back, then vanished into the blackness of the tunnel.

Edward didn't acknowledge the woman, instead he turned his attention to the pool of blood at his feet. _His_ blood.

With steady hands, he dipped the fore and middle fingers in the scarlet liquid. With sure strokes, he traced the all too familiar patterns on his arms, his chest, his forehead.

"I don't deserve this, Al, this life you've returned to me. So, I'm giving it back to you." A sad smile graced his features. Yes, this was good. It was his fault, everything. Al had just followed along, not willing to leave his brother's side. With those thoughts, he closed his eyes, frown replacing the smile.

Gentle blue light gathered and sprung from the floor and circles on his body, engulfing him and the room. That was the last thing Edward Elric saw of the material world for the next 400 years.

-|+|-

Blackness. Suffocating, eternal blackness.

Emptiness. Hollow, endless emptiness.

Edward wandered through the black emptiness without sight, without sound, without hope, without fear. The yawning darkness stretched before him, behind him. '_Where am I_'? he questioned, but the feeling of thought was vague, as if it wasn't truly thought, but a simple string of words linked together in a pattern that merely existed on the plane of nothingness.

A shimmer of light faded in view on the horizon, no bigger than a pea. It flickered and danced, bobbing up and down, in and out. As Edward drew nearer, it took shape, a blue flame that floated in the inky blackness.

It was small, no bigger than his head, but it pulsed brightly enough to light up what felt like his upper body and must of the space around him.

On their own accord, his hands, mere ghostly trails, inched forwards, cupping the flame in his palms and caressing the edges that threatened to break from its center. His fingertips brushed against the blue flame, causing it to flicker. His eyes were riveted to it, never turning. Slowly, images formed in the pale center, rippling outward in waves that engulfed the essence before it.

'_This is…me?_' he asked himself

'_Yes. But that life is over._'

'_Who's there?_'

'_I am many things. I am life. I am death. But you, Edward Elric, know me as '_Truth'.'

'_Oh, you._'

'_Yes. Me_.'

'_And, what do you want this time?_' the boy's tone was one of slight irritation, yet genuine curiousness won over.

'_Nothing. I merely have something to offer. Your brother has been restored, in exchange for your life. Except, I have taken his memories of the last four years. I can give them back, along with his fourteen year old body, which I have also taken, if you agree to my proposal._'

'_And what's this proposal?_'

'_You see, my last collector has grown old, and has unfortunately had to retire. I am in need of a new one, and frankly, you fit the bill. I might want to point out that you have nothing left in the mortal world to live for, or to seek out. Not to mention the fact you can't go back anyway, or your brother would never return. _Ever.'

'_I see. It's a lose-lose situation. For me at least. Very well, I accept your offer. But only on the condition that Al is left alone after this._'

'_Good._'

With that word, Edward was left by himself in the inky darkness.

* * *

**A/N:** quick note here, a big thanks to all who put up with my nagging so that this chapter could be at it's best. And The Chibi's Are Stalking Me, for the quote that inspired this story.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** Unknown, Unseen

**Author: **Lacora

**Rated: **T (for now)

**Disclaimer:** I have an announcement! My real name is Hiromu Arakawa, and I actually own FMA. Now excuse me while I go celebrate with a glass of whiskey in my favorite bar: 'bullshit'

**Last Chapter: **Envy kills Ed, Al brings Ed back, Ed brings Al back. Ed ends up in the gate, and agrees to be Truth's collector

* * *

**Chapter One**

It had been eight long years since his brother had vanished. Seven since he was declared MIA, or missing in action. In the days since then, Alphonse Elric had spent countless hours holed up in the libraries and among the pages of books of Amestries. He simply refused to believe that his brother was dead.

Four years ago, during the scuffle with Drachma, Al had joined the military as a state-alchemist. He didn't particularly like war, since all his experiences with it had ended on a bad note. Nevertheless, he was determined to find his brother, whether it be just a corpse, or perhaps something more, he refused to give up.

Now, Al found himself sitting on the train to central once again, on his way to see Mustang. He received the call two nights ago, saying the matter was urgent, but couldn't be discussed over the phone for danger of someone intercepting.

The familiar rhythm of the train as it moved down the tracks lulled the boy into a sense of peace, allowing his thoughts to wonder back.

"_Hurry up Al!"_

"_Wait up nii-san, the library isn't going anywhere."_

_There was no response, except the hurried pace till the blonde head in front of him was nearly sprinting down the platform._

"_What do you mean 'how'? It's simple, we break in!" This was followed by a silent clap and a flare of blue light. When it faded, a hole was exposed in the ground. "Come on, Al."_

"_We're going to bring her back, Al."_

"_All is the world, one is me…"_

Al sighed, the memories slowly retreating back into the crevices of his mind. It did no good to reminisce about the past; it was gone, done with. He himself was twenty-two now, an adult by anyone's standards; even Izumi-sensei's.

He grinned at that thought. When Al had showed up after Ed had disappeared, returned to his body and alive again, Izumi had almost had a heart-attack right then and there. Of course, afterwards, she had beaten him nearly senseless and demanded an explanation. This required him to tell her about Ed, and that he hadn't been found.

He had requested she teach him again, to which she grudgingly agreed, and they had kept quite close over the years.

The shrill whistle of the train brought Al out from his reminiscing. The brakes screeched as the train slowed, jolting Al forward in the seat slightly then shoved him back when it stopped completely. Al shook hazel blonde bangs out of his eyes, before grabbing his suitcase and heading off the train.

It didn't take long to spot the person sent to pick him up, the guy was sort of hard to miss with his massive build and bulky frame.

"Major Armstrong!" he called cheerfully, a grin splitting his face.

"Ah, young Mr. Elric, sir," replied the giant man, sparkles forming around his shoulders and head.

"Are you my escort?"

"Certainly! The secret ability of driving one from place to place has been passed down in my family for generations!" the sparkles had now multiplied en masse, causing Al to wince at their increasing brightness.

Al scratched the back of his head uncertainly, not knowing exactly how to respond to Armstrong's enthusiasm.

-|+|-

The large white building looked no different from before, excluding the bronze statue that now stood in the center courtyard. Al glanced at it briefly, the rush of memories threatening to overflow the dam, just as they did every time he came here.

He threw a quick nod at the receptionist, and then continued in, making his way through the maze of corridors and hallways until he came upon the one door he was looking for.

It was soft brown, the wood smooth and glossy. Or it would have been, except for the boot marks and smudges criss-crossing its face. It was apparent that the door had been polished many times, but the stains of mud and who-knows-what-else still remained glaringly obvious.

Only his brother, Al thought to himself before pressing his knuckles lightly against the wood. He didn't wait for someone to open the door, instead opting to enter by himself, closing the door behind him.

"Afternoon, Lt. Colonel Hawkeye, Lt. Havoc. Where's the Major General?"

"He's expecting you," was the response, the familiar head of blonde hair and cool amber eyes turned his direction for only a moment, then back to the stack of papers on her desk.

He nodded, turning toward the inner sanctum of the room.

The Major General sat behind his desk, slouched in his chair. His head fell to the left and rested on his shoulder, while his mouth hung open, occasionally uttering soft snores. His desk was piled with paperwork, as was most of the floor around the desk. However, the most note able thing was the numerous bullet holes that punctured the wall between the two windows on the wall behind the man.

Alphonse chuckled lightly at the rush of memories accompanied with the scene before him. '_Just like old times_,' he thought.

His soft footsteps padded along the carpeted floor. He had almost reached the desk, when the black onyx eyes snapped open and fixed him with a gaze that could only be aloof.

"Alphonse," he said.

"Major General Mustang," he replied.

A tense silence between them followed, though Alphonse suspected that the man had merely dosed off again with his eyes open.

"You know, you're not like your brother at all," a faint smile graced his face, his eyes glazing over as if lost in his memories.

"Heh," was Al's response, for lack of anything better.

"Down to business," the man said, tone abruptly serious.

"The number of disappearances has gone up in the last few weeks. The killer is still on the loose, and we're out of ideas. His victims range from children to grannies, and the cause of death is different each time. We've narrowed the search down to East Block, and that's where you come in."

Roy Mustang slid a folder across his desk toward the boy.

"That contains the mission briefing. Good luck."

Al nodded, picking up the folder and walking out. Things had just gotten way more complicated.

He waved to the receptionist on the way out, making his way down the steps and into the busy streets of Central. Some cake, or a sweet of some sort, was sounding really good right now.

After getting his cake, vanilla short-cake with strawberries and cream, he settled himself at a table to go over the mission.

'_Yep. All the usual stuff,_' he thought, his mind already working out possible strategies and possible ways of restraint.

-|+|-

Four hours later, Al found himself wandering down the empty streets, his hands tucked into his pockets with his head turned down. It was quarter to midnight, and he was twitching in anticipation. It had been too long since he had done anything for the military. He had spent the last two years or so in Risembool with Winry. Granny Pinako had died the previous year, so Al had stayed longer to comfort his childhood friend.

The dong of the bell echoed throughout the streets. Midnight had come at last.

Turning down a street he knew would lead him to an open area, he focused on his mission. He was to act as bait, a poor helpless woman who was lost and had settled down to rest a bit before she continued on. The other four members, Havoc, Breda, Furey, Falman were to make sure the killer ended up in the right place. Once Al had "possessed" him, Hawkeye was to shoot him, but not kill him.

Al sighed, not exactly sure why he had agreed to such a ridiculous idea in the first place. Sure he made a pretty girl, but that's not something he was exactly proud of. It wasn't like he wanted to go around flaunting his manliness either. A light laugh escaped his mouth as Armstrong came to mind at that thought. It faded into the night, a sigh chasing it out. He simply wanted to be himself. Sue him for sounding corny, but it was true.

A dog barked in the distance, a streetlamp flickered. The silence was closing in, drawing nearer, nearer. Would the killer even come? What if there was no killer?

A sudden rustle in the bushes to his right startled him out of his seat. He jumped back a few feet in an instant, knees bent, arms held in a defensive position, eyes locked on the bush, wary of the slightest movement.

The rustling increased, the leaves shifting faster, the noise louder until it was almost roaring in his ears.

The rustling stopped. _Meow_. A silver tabby stepped out from behind the branches, ears perked, eyes large and wide. Alphonse grinned, relaxing his position.

'_It's just a cat_,' he thought to himself.

He crouched and held his hand toward the cat, a gentle smile on his face. The cat took a step forward cautiously, warily. Before it could take another, it wobbled and fell over on it's side, fresh blood pooling around it's now limp body.

Al tensed, eyes still watching the cat. _Thump._ He jumped, moving to brush off whatever had landed in his lap, but stopped when his hand was met with a sticky wetness. He looked down.

There, in his lap, was the cat's head, its eyes frozen, its jaws locked in the slightly loose, open way of an animal who was breathing heavily. Bloody oozed the part of the neck still attached to the head. The white of the bone stuck grotesquely out of the red, muscled flesh, sharp and jagged. It was obvious the head had been cut at an angle.

"Damn! I missed!" someone shouted, and Al knew the voice was talking about him.

In seconds he stood and backed away, and now stood a few feet from the bench he had previously occupied. Before he could say anything, though, a body appeared from the shadows before him.

"Well, well. Look at what we have here. What're you doing out so late, sir?" the voice rang with sarcasm and obvious enjoyment at the look of disgust that had crossed Al's face.

The stranger advanced slowly, swinging what appeared to be a rather crude looking knife, the edges jagged, the blade curved. A leering smirk was drawn on the man's features as he approached, his gait slowed because of its waddle.

"They call me Barry the Chopper, because I like to chop things. The feel of the blade, sliding so easily through soft flesh, the sound of pleas and screams for mercy…" his tirade continued.

"Barry? I thought you were dead? Didn't they kill you?" Al asked, knowing he had failed to hold back the slight quiver.

"I don't know what you're talking about kid; I have no memory of before. But enough talk, you, sir, you are my next lucky victim!" He cried, picking up his pace into a run.

"Oh no you don't!" a new voice cried from somewhere above the two.

Al jerked, glancing around him wildly. Where were Havoc and the rest of them? They seriously couldn't expect him to fight this freak alone. He supposed they hadn't thought of the fact that maybe the killer could be a near invincible sort of creature, one that could only be destroyed by damaging the blood seal hidden on its body.

His musings were cut off when a black shade dropped from above, landing in a crouch, palms pressed into two dents that had appeared in the dirt below him.

The figure stood, sighing an exasperating sigh.

"Geez Barry, we've been over this. You can't just come down here whenever you feel like it and chop up innocents."

"Not you again. I've had enough of that dark and boring place. Can't you let me out once in awhile?"

"Sorry Barry, but It lays down the rules, and I am merely the enforcer."

Barry had faded from Al's vision, his thoughts, and his consciousness. All his attention was focused on the stranger in front of him. He was tall; broad shouldered and had an aura of strength and power. A sword was at his belt, or would have been if he had a belt, which he didn't. The sword was impossible long, the tip kissing the ground. The other noticeable thing had to be the rather large staff the stranger held in his right hand. The stranger leaned on said staff lazily, as if Barry was no threat at all and there couldn't be anything more relaxing than a chat with a crazy murderer at two in the morning.

"Right," said the stranger, "to business."

And before Al could blink, the stranger had lunged forward, whipped his staff around his body in an arc, and then plunged the base of what used to be a staff, now a scythe with an impossibly long blade that curved into an impossibly narrow point, through Barry's forehead. Barry gave a choked cry, his eyes bulging in their sockets. Blood welled in the gaping hole of his mouth, before dribbling down his chin.

"Good day, Barry," the stranger said to the corpse. "Now then, about what you've just seen." The stranger turned then, the hood of his cloak falling back to expose his face.

Grey clouds above shifted, moonlight filtering through the mesh of darkness, illuminating the park. Before the man's face has been in shadow, but now was clear. Al froze, iris' shrinking. His lips quivered, his knees buckled and he fell with an audible thump onto the ground. The aching of his butt was a dull whisper in his mind, all his attention was focused on the one figure he thought he'd never see again.

* * *

**A/N:** this is unbeta-ed, if you want to beta this story, message me xD I really need one. Thanks a billion for the review Orange Singer, and to answer, I'm not really sure yet ^^ just writing what comes to mind for now.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Unknown, Unseen

**Author: **Lacora

**Rated: **T (for now)

**Disclaimer:** (see previous chapters)

**Last Chapter: **Al receives a mission from Roy , while on said mission, he is attacked by Barry, and then a stranger appears to rescue Al.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

An uncanny resemblance, that's what it was. There was no way in all the seven hells that person could be his brother. For one thing, his brother had been missing for the past eight years, why show up now? The other being that he was tall. Not toweringly tall, but definitely taller than he, himself, was.

He tried to speak, but found his voice was locked, buried in his throat that was now surprisingly dry. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his lips stuck together. His breathing was rapid and uneven, coming through his nostrils in large huffs. His limbs shook. There was simply no way.

Yes he had wished, had hoped beyond any hope or dream that his brother was alive, was waiting for him. But the hope had faded gradually, until it wasn't something he thought of often. A touch made, a word said, and he would remember his brother, but that was it. Eight years was a long time, and Al had grown up.

True, he hadn't exactly stopped his search, but he had become distracted with other things that demanded of his attention. Besides, Al was certain he knew as much as there was to know, about the gate. End of story.

His chest burned at the sight of the stranger, a dull ache slowly creeping through his veins. He slowly gained his feet, finding and collecting what strength he could muster and then stood, wrapping his shawl around himself.

His balance didn't last long though, his buckled knees causing him to fall back onto the bench, knee length skirt forgotten as he sprawled into a comfortable position on the wooden surface, back pressing into the wooden plats of the bench.

Stormy grey eyes lifted to eye the figure before him, the stranger who looked so much like his missing brother. It wasn't funny, not really, but he found himself chuckling, then laughing all out, clutching his stomach, his eyes squeezing shut, tears forming at the corner of his eyes, the whole shebang.

He stopped abruptly, eyes locking onto the figure in a frigid glare. "Is this your idea of a joke? Because I don't find it funny." He stopped, thoughts wandering back to a moment ago when he _had_ been laughing at the guy. The stranger must have been thinking the same thing with the look on his face. Al scowled. "I don't."

The stranger shrugged, leaning on his staff in a relaxed manner. "Right, whatever you say." His eyes shifted to glance at the 'woman' sitting on the bench.

Al suddenly noticed his position and gave a meek 'eep'. He quickly closed his legs, and then winced when his knees and thighs slammed together. "I do say. Explain yourself," he replied in a gruff tone (but failed miserably, since his cheeks were dusted with a pink tinge and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his skirt), trying to recover some of his dignity.

"I see no reason to, Miss. I just saved you from my buddy Barry, a thank-you would suffice," again there was a shift in his eyes, a smirk stretching across his face as he uttered the words in a drawling manner.

"Hey! Who're you calling 'miss'?!" Al shouted, suddenly jumping to his feet and lunging at the stranger.

The stranger easily dodged the punch, eyes widening slightly at the comment. He supposed the longer, silky hair with the v-neck top and knee length skirt added with the stocking covered feet would say 'female,' but on closer inspection noted the lack of curves, the definite square shape to the jaw and the larger muscles; not very large on a male, but definitely too large for a female.

The stranger held up his hands in a defensive manner, "My bad, but you do make a pretty woman. May I ask why exactly you are dressed as a woman, and wandering the parks so late at night?"His tone had taken a teasing edge that Al didn't miss.

The now calmed Al snorted, pulling his hair up and tying it back into a ponytail.

"That," he paused, "is none of your business. And by the way, you still haven't answered my question."

"I'm calling you a 'miss', _Miss_. " the stranger replied, earning a glare from Al. He laughed, "What's your name, Miss?"

"Would you stop calling me that? And it's considered courteous to introduce oneself first."

"Alright, have it your way. My name is Ed." He stopped, thinking for a brief moment, before adding, "And I don't know my full name or where I came from." Al knew it was a lie, but it would probably be safer if he played dumb.

Al's breathing hitched. Again, an eerie chill raced up his spine. That was two. Could he possibly hope that this person before him was his brother? '_No!_' his mind shouted at him.

"Ed," he tried the name on his tongue, rolling the 'd' so it sounded as if it was followed by an 'o'.

"And your name?" Ed asked.

"Alphonse Elric," he replied. He supposed he could have lied about his name, it would probably have more sense, but he had felt a strange urge not to.

Ed gave a nonchalant shrug, his face masked into one of complete relaxation. In his head was another matter.

'_Al? What… how? Huh…? He should be dead, unless he became like dad and used the Philosopher's Stone to transfer his soul, but then his body should decay, and I don't smell decay, or sense the presence __or__residue of the stone. Just what is going on? I know for a fact that it's been close to 400 years since that day…_' his thoughts trailed off.

Suddenly, Al smothered his ear, his eyes widening.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed. "Sorry. I've got to go. Later." And then he ran off.

Ed stood there, a blank look on his face. "My brother swears?" he asked himself, his tone one of disbelief.

Ed watched as Al disappeared around the corner, a relieved expression on his face.

'_Today has certainly been interesting_,' he thought before vanishing into the air.

-|+|-

"Alphonse! Alphonse!" a voice rang over the communicator.

No answer.

Lieutenant Jean Havoc sighed, putting down the transmitter. Hopefully the kid was okay. He had vaguely heard a scream of some sort, but he wasn't sure. At the tap on his shoulder, he turned, meeting inky black eyes raised in a questioning glance.

"And?" the man asked.

"No response, sir."

The Major General sighed, his face hardening. He would be damned if he let Alphonse suffer the same fate as his brother. He had been careless, and Edward had died because of it. He wasn't about to repeat the same mistake.

"Keep trying," he said.

"Sir, I lost visual!" Hawkeye shouted from her post, lowering her weapon to rest on her lap, barrel pointed toward the ground.

"What do you mean you _lost_ visual?" he snapped in response.

"I mean, sir, that I lost visual contact. He just disappeared into thin air. One moment he was there facing off with the target, the next he wasn't," she replied, voice slightly strained.

"Havoc, try again, and don't stop till you get a response. If you don't get one within ten minutes, we're going in."

Havoc jumped, snatching the transmitter from its holder and yelling back into the mouthpiece.

"Alphonse!..."

Mustang turned, staring out toward the city, mouth drawn in a grim line, lips tightened till they were white. '_Damn it Al, you'd better not die._'

-|+|-

"_Can you hear me…?_" the words were long and drawn out, but shouted at deafening levels.

Al winced, "Yes, yes… I can hear you, now would you please stop, my ears are starting to bleed."

He could hear a relieved sigh on the other end, then, "_Glad you're okay. Hey wai-!_ _Alphonse, where are you?_"

"Major General, sir," he acknowledged, "I just turned down market street, heading your way."

"What happened back there? Did you succeed?"

"I'm not sure sir, and no sir, I did not." Al sighed. It was inevitable, yes, but he preferred to speak to the Major General about it in private, not when he had five other bodies hanging off of him.

"Just come back to base, we'll try again tomorrow." The line cut off.

Al blinked before shrugging and continuing on, his thoughts now focused entirely on the stranger who looked like his brother.

'_Where did he come from anyway? And he acted as if he _knew_ Barry. He even called him his 'buddy.' Was that all a big setup so I would trust him… but then, if that's the case, why? He didn't seem to know that I was part of the military. Even after I gave him my name_, _which was really stupid._'

-|+|-

Ed faded into view looking rather serious. The familiar black emptiness was home to him now, and bothered him no less than reading about alchemy would. Even though there was nothing there, he had learned to find his way around in the endless expanse of darkness. He could feel it if someone foreign entered, such as a wandering soul or a hapless human.

He, himself had been a hapless human when he had first come here 400 years ago, at least that's what it felt like to him. He had now figured out only eight had passed on the world he used to call home.

"Truth!" he bellowed, knowing It would come.

"_Yes?_" The tone was sickly sweet, taunting and sarcastic.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, fixing his face to his right, knowing It was there, grinning like a Cheshire cat, watching him.

"_Tell you what?_" It asked, tone mocking.

"You know what I'm talking about. How come you didn't tell me my brother was still alive?"

It shook with laughter, a single, large eye forming in the surrounding blank space.

The eye was deformed, twisted and grotesque, leering and horrifying all at once. Ed suppressed a shudder; he still hadn't grown completely used to Truth's materialized form.

"_You didn't need to know, Ed. Besides, I'd have thought you would have figured it out by now. Since you're so smart and all._"

"Don't toy with me, Truth!" he snapped.

The laughter echoed around him, pressing in, growing in intensity, and then ending abruptly. Truth had left him.

Ed growled under his breath, "Stupid Truth, and stupid rules."

-|+|-

The early morning sun roused Al from his sleep. What he would like to call sleep. He had only been able to dose off for long enough to call it sleep about half an hour ago, and even then his dreams had been filled with the memory of the stranger with his brother's name.

When he had arrived at the meeting point late last night, Roy had taken one look at his disheveled state and had sent him right home with the order to appear in his office first thing in the morning for his report.

Al sighed as he slipped out of the bed; today was most certainly going to be a long day.

-|+|-

Major General Mustang looked at the boy standing before him. His eyes had large black circles underneath them, and his posture was rigid and tense. His eyes kept shifting back and forth, wary, of what Roy wasn't sure.

"Alphonse?" he asked the boy, and was amused when the boy jumped.

"Yes sir?" his lips trembled, his voice quivering.

"Your report."

"Ah! Right. Er… I arrived at the scheduled time, and waited at the planned place. At approximately 0200 hours, the suspect arrived at the scene," he paused for a minute, allowing a brief silence for the death of the poor cat that had died instead of himself, then continued, "and engaged with the target. I was interrupted, however, by," Al paused, taking a long breath. "Well sir, I think it was my brother."

* * *

**A/N:** Millions and millions of cookies/kudos, whatever you want to call them, to Moonshine 369 for the beta xD And a special thanks to all you guys who reviewed! Thankies!


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** Unknown, Unseen

**Author: **Lacora

**Beta:** Moonshine 369

**Rated: **T (for now)

**Disclaimer:** (see previous chapters)

**Last Chapter:** Al meets Ed after eight long years, and then goes back to the meeting point when Havoc calls him over the transmitter. Ed questions Truth, and Al reveals to Mustang that Ed was the reason for his delay.

**A/N:** If you don't want to read this chapter, it's fine with me ^^ It's more of a rant of the characters inner mind and whatnot, more to establish what they are like and well, about certain things I won't specify so as not to completely ruin the chapter. The first five or so paragraphs are the only text that actually progresses with the plot. Happy reading xD

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**Chapter Three**

Dead silence. A chilling dead silence that crept into Alphonse's bones and muscles. Minutes passed, and still the silence continued.

Then, the Major General took a long, deep breath, folding his hands in front of him and resting his chin on the tops, his eyes locking on Al into an all too serious gaze. "Alphonse, go outside and cool your head. When you are ready to give me a serious report, you may come back." With that said, he leaned back in his chair, swiveling it around to face the wall.

Al lingered where he stood, not moving from his place, yet Roy did not move from his chair, his posture stiff. With a soft sigh, Al bowed briefly and then left the office, without looking back.

Riza Hawkeye was known for her serious no-nonsense attitude, and accuracy with a gun. She was also known to shoot at anyone if they ticked her off, even superior officers. She didn't startle easily, and so the Private who had come by to deliver some paperwork was nearly frightening to death when he entered the room and was met with a pistol in his face, and a very pale, scared-out-of-her-mind, Hawkeye.

He quickly shoved the papers into her chest and high-tailed it out of the room before his head got blown off. Numerous shouts of '_What the hell?!' _and shots echoed behind him as he ran.

In the courtyard, Al had found peace sitting at the base of the bronze statue that stood toward the south side. His head was bent between his knees, his hands clasped in front of him.

A sudden explosion resounded through Headquarters, shaking the earth. It barely fazed Al, as he continued to sit and ponder.

What if that really had been his brother? Was he alive after all? Why hadn't he come back before? Did Ed hate him?

His brother had changed so much since Al had last seen him. No longer was he the determined shrimp, with a short temper, and…

Now that he thought about it, he could barely remember his brother at all. What he did remember was them sneaking around, traveling from town to town, causing mayhem wherever they went. When they weren't wrecking havoc, they were reading books upon books, thousands of books, late into the night. Some nights they wouldn't even sleep because they were so engrossed in their research.

Not that Al had ever needed sleep.

The man that Alphonse had encountered last night was so strange, so different. He knew that it had been his brother, he was certain of it. But the man had felt so far away, like a stranger or a brief glimpse through a door, only to have it close in his face. As if he could run forever toward him, and never get any closer.

The man he had met last night had been everything his brother was not. Yes, they had both been skilled in combat, but that was where the similarities ended. His brother had been loud, rampant, slightly proud, but not with the things he had done and the choices he had made. He was a boy full of regret and anguish.

The Ed he had met last night had been calm, subtle; if anything at all, he had been bored. The Ed he knew was never bored, since he was always doing something that would help Al get his body back. Ed had lived for Al, his _world_ was Al. Not anymore. The Ed last night hadn't even known him. Was he really even his brother?

Yes, yes, he knew it had to have been.

Al sat up abruptly with that revelation. He needed a break, a place to go and be by himself. And he knew just the place.

He left Headquarters in a flash, marching down the white steps and through the massive black gates. He didn't need a car, and even if he did, exercise was good for the heart. Besides, he still needed to think.

As he walked, his thoughts drifted back into the pool of memories.

He found it strange, that all that could really have happened. It felt so long ago, almost as if he had imagined it. But the evidence was there. Roy had an eye patch, and everyone who had met Ed at least once had been at the funeral. That was practically everyone in Amestris.

Al himself had been a silent spectator, listening to the many hurried whispers, questions. "Where's his brother Al? I don't see him anywhere," they echoed, taunted. Half way through, Al had stood up at the front, facing the massive crowd. There, in an emotionless voice, he had told the story of his brother. He didn't finish until sundown, and even long after it was over, not a single soul had moved.

The next day when he had woken up, the hotel he had been staying in was stuffed with flowers, overflowing, so that they oozed out the windows and doors. Al had had to alchemize a hole in the ceiling and then a ladder down the side of the building just so he could get out.

Roy had laughed and laughed when Al told him. But it was an empty laugh, one only forced out to support the mask he now wore.

Edward's death had affected him, and everyone else.

But now Ed wasn't dead, or he never had been. Why hadn't he said anything? He had to have known that Al would miss him, would look for him until he was well into his eighties. Even then he wouldn't have stopped.

Al finally arrived at his destination, breathing in the familiar scents and scenery. He hadn't been here in a long time, and it felt good to be back. The last time he _had_ been here, he hadn't been able to feel the grass, or smell the air. The gurgle of the river, the shift of the grass, they all brought back memories that Al would rather he not remember.

He would always come here after a fight with Ed, to think, to wonder, to regret, to worry.

Strangely enough, he had found himself here yet again, after a confrontation with his brother. Things hadn't changed, or maybe _he_ hadn't changed. Ed certainly had.

The Ed last night had the same aura as Hohenheim, old beyond time, solemn and full of anguish. Yet, he also had the sarcasm and attitude as his brother.

Al's mind swam with the similarities and differences. From one point of view, they were the same, from another, they were complete opposites.

So what _had_ changed? And better yet, why did he feel like his thoughts were going in circles? It was making him rather dizzy. With a sigh, Al settled on the bank, tucking his knees up and wrapping his arms tightly around them. He wished Ed were here. Ed always knew what to do when Al was down. Ed always brought him up and kept him going.

-|+|-

_Achoo!_ Ed sniffled, drawing the back of his hand roughly across his nose. No doubt Al had told that Bastard Colonel about last night. He had no doubt in his mind that everyone in Central would know about him by tomorrow.

He growled under his breath. Curse It.

He was currently locked up in his "room." It was more of a space in the empty blackness with a barrier around it that blocked all kinds of residue except his own and Truth's.

Damn Truth had locked him here after last night, knowing he would want to visit Amestris again just to see his brother. And he had been right.

For the rest of the night, after his spat with Truth upon his return, he had been locked up, and since then had ranted and raved, demanding that the Lord of the Gate let him free. He had to see Al. He had to know… What exactly it was that he absolutely had to know, he wasn't sure. He just felt like he had to see Al, no matter what.

He snarled, eyebrows drawn into an angry slant across his eyes that were narrowed in barely concealed rage. He paced back and forth, hands clasped to the sides of his head.

How _dare_ It put him in here! Keep him locked away while Al could be in danger. Not likely, but not impossible either.

Ed sighed heavily, sitting down cross-legged on the empty "air," pinching his eyebrows between his thumb and forefinger. His heart was elated that Al was alive. In fact, elated didn't even begin to describe the relief he felt, the overwhelming sense of accomplishment and joy. Truth hadn't lied about giving Al's body back, and judging by his reaction last night, his memories as well.

What he had lied about, or not said anything about, was the fact that Al was still alive, in Amestris.

Ed knew, for a fact, that at least 400 years had passed since he had first come here in a desperate last-ditch attempt to bring his brother back, so that he could continue the life Ed had ruined, then robbed. It was better than death.

It was his fault, entirely. It had been his own idea, and Al had just gone along with it, suffered because of it. The price Al paid was greater than Ed's, and he had done nothing wrong. It was unjustified, wrong. And Ed had fixed it, had made it all better.

Al was supposed to have lived a good, full life, enjoying the fact he was alive and well, even after all they had been through and sacrificed to get there. He was supposed to have married Winry, and then died an old man with tons of grandchildren. After all, humans don't live 400 years.

Then what had happened? Why was Al alive? Was he like their father, transferring his soul over and over again, until he eventually became the stone in itself? He certainly didn't look old. More like in the prime of his youth, but his eyes were haunted and weary looking.

He supposed it was possible, but then that would mean Al had killed others, simply to prolong his life. But, Al wouldn't do that. Ever. He said it himself, he didn't want something that would cause pain for others, would kill others.

Ed jerked his head up, dropping his hand to his side abruptly. He had to visit Al, one more time. He had to ask him, no matter what. He would make Truth let him out, even if it killed him.

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**A/N:** Alright, short chapter! Thanks to all you guys who reviewed the last chapter xDD And to answer some of your questions, I have no idea. As I said to orange singer, I'm just writing it as it comes along, none of this is pre-planned at all. I do have some semblance of a plot, but it's only a vague idea. Drop a review, I'd love to hear from you, and I'm really glad you guys like the story xD I've been high for a week since you guys are giving me tons of reviews; I'll stop rambling, see ya next chap.


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** Unknown, Unseen

**Author:** Lacora

**Beta:** Moonshine 369

**Rated: **T (for now)

**Disclaimer:** (see prologue and chap 1)

**Last Chapter: **Roy denies Al's claim. Ed and Al share their thoughts in angst-y monologue on the encounter.

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**Chapter Four**

Al glared at the man sitting in front of him. That stupid jerk was currently sitting at his desk, his traditional smug expression in place. His heavy black boots were resting on the desk, since the Major General was reclining back in his chair.

"You can't be serious," Al growled at his relaxed superior.

"Oh, believe me Alphonse. I'm perfectly serious."

"So you're telling me that the suspect didn't even show that night, and that Havoc didn't lure him anywhere, and that I was out in _feminine_ attire for nothing?! I don't believe this."

Roy grinned. "Oh don't get yourself all wound up in a huff. I have good news. We received a tip from a classified source that our suspect would be in Main Square. Go down there early this afternoon and stake out until he shows."

"But how am I supposed to know what he looks like?" Al inquired.

"No one knows, though reports say that he's tall and wears a black cloak."

"Right. Whatever you say," he said, turning to leave.

"Wait a minute. Don't forget this," Roy called, tossing a package at the boy.

Al spun and caught it, as he walked out the office door. He looked down, and saw to his disdain his feminine disguise. One day, Ed would come back, and the Major General would suffer hell. Al supposed he could relate more closely to his brother now. He now understood why Ed had hated Mustang so much.

He sighed. He was doing it again, talking about his brother in past tense. It wasn't like Edward was really gone, he knew he wasn't. Ed would never just leave him alone, ever. But then, he _had_ left him alone. Eight years ago.

Al shook his head from side to side so violently his brains rattled. Now was not the time for such thoughts. Mustang was counting on him, however much he wanted to deny it. Unfortunately for Alphonse, Mustang had averted his "teasing" attitude toward the younger of the Elrics, having lost his older and much more volatile source of amusement.

Al trudged through the doors of his dorm room. Today would certainly be exciting, he supposed. But first things first, he had to— he shuddered at the thought of it— change his attire. He retreated to his dorm room in the barracks, wading through the sea of papers and books that littered the floor. After he had changed his clothing, he headed out the building into the afternoon sun.

The week before, he had disguised himself well after hours. Today was different, though. He would be exposed to everyone. With a somewhat hesitant step, Al left HQ grounds. Time to see if anyone would recognize him. First things first: Lunch.

Al had become a regular at a certain café, ever since he and Ed had almost been forced to eat and run, thanks to Mustang, and perhaps Ed's inability to check his wallet before he sat down to eat gratuitous amounts of food. Al himself ate food in large amounts, though he supposed it was more to make up for the lack of it during _that_ time.

He stubbornly refused to think of his time in the armor with anything but utter loathing. He wasn't exactly proud of it, and was certainly glad to be rid of it. Especially now that he knew living in the armor was simply making him a serious safety hazard.

He supposed the only reason Kimblee had been able to turn him into a bomb in the first place, even though there was nothing inside to work with, was because the blood and the iron of the armor bond was already set to go off at any moment. It was a fragile balancing act, in which even the weight of a feather could tip the scales and completely alter the odds.

Al made his way down 205 Street, watching the people pass by him without notice. '_Good. I think I would kill myself if anyone recognized me_,' he thought. Not that it was all that likely in the first place. Even though his name was as infamous as his brother's, his face wasn't. '_It's all about the looks,_' he thought sullenly.

He had reached the corner where the café sat, peaceful and serene and just the same as it had always been. He eagerly opened the door and sat in his usual spot. In fact, it was the same table he and his brother had sat at back then. He knew it was childish, but he didn't want to give up hope on his older brother. He knew he was alive, and he would find him, punch him hard right in the face, maybe cry just a little, but he would definitely be very happy. Of course, then he would drag his brother's sorry ass back to Risembool, back to Winry.

He cracked a devious grin at that thought. Oh the look on Winry's face would be priceless. Why, Al would even be nice. He'd gladly hold Ed down so Winry could pound the life out of him with her wrench.

He didn't even realize he was cackling sinisterly until the waiter coughed lightly, looking rather concerned.

"Er, could I have the lamb please, sir?" he asked innocently.

The waiter nodded slowly, "Anything to drink, miss?"

Al had to bite back a retort. "Er, coffee, please," he managed.

The waiter left, returning soon with a steaming mug of hot coffee. He left again quickly, having returned to Al quietly chuckling under his breath.

Al sighed, lifting the mug to his lips and sipping slowly on the hot liquid.

"Boo," a voice said.

Al choked and sputtered, spraying coffee out from his mouth. Setting the mug down rather abruptly on the table, he turned toward the source of the voice.

"Do you get some sort of rush when you do that?"

"I do apologize, _miss_. I couldn't help myself," the voice responded mockingly.

Al growled, head snapping up to stare at the figure in front of him. If he believed in a divine being, he could swear they hated him.

"_You_," he spat, not bothering to smother the annoyance in his tone.

"Yes, me." For whatever reason, this conversation seemed vaguely familiar, though Ed wasn't sure why.

"What do you want?"

"Not much," he shrugged, assuming a nonchalant expression, "though I may have wanted to see you again." He snuck a sideways glance. "Is that a crime?"

Al coughed once, a weak, forced cough, then quickly snagged his cup and took a tiny sip from the rim. He knew it was to hide the blush that had forced its way onto his face.

"In my book it is. Why don't you leave me alone? I'm sure you have better things to do, with whatever it is that you do," Al mumbled, words barely distinguishable from around the mug currently being held to his lips.

"Ah, but you see, that would be so boring. Why would I do something boring when I can pick on you, and watch your flustered, exaggerated reactions?"

Al narrowed his eyes. "Look, _Ed_, or whoever you really are, I'm busy. I'm working right now, actually, so you can stuff it, and go away." He seriously wasn't in the mood to deal with this strange man. Brother or no, he couldn't handle it at the moment. If he was, in fact, his brother, he would probably break down and embarrass himself. And besides, 'Ed' had said that he didn't remember anything about his past life (whatever that meant), and so it was highly unlikely that Al would entice a reaction from this Ed if he were to reveal anything.

Ed regarded Al with a look that said, 'Uh huh, _sure_ you're busy.' "What's got you all in a bundle?" he asked instead.

"Nothing," Al replied, not willing to disclose any information to the suspicious stranger.

Ed looked at Al, the same look he had given him countless times when he knew Al was hiding something.

Only his brother had mastered that look down to an art, and only his brother, giving that look, could entice information. Al shivered.

"Umm… Well, maybe," he relented. "My stupid superior gave me the dumbest assignment. I realize it's important, and would help lots of people, but I'm still somewhat hesitant. I have a sneaking suspicion that he's just pulling my leg."

"Oh," said Ed, attention finally drawn, "and who is your oh-so-annoying-superior?"

"Major General Mustang, who else?" Everyone knew that. _Everyone_.

Ed's eyes widened with the revelation. "That bastard's still alive?" he asked, somewhat appalled. His eyes widened ever further when he realized what he had just said, but only for a moment. In seconds, his expression was masked by an expressionless gaze.

Al eyes narrowed suspiciously, "I knew it!"

Ed laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head with his hand, "Ummm… this guy I met a couple days ago told me about him." His attempt at hiding the question was fruitless.

Al jerked forward, face inches from Ed's own, eyes alight with hardly controlled glee. "I knew it!" he continued to shout.

Ed mock pouted. "Well, I really should be going I suppose. I'm not supposed to be out and about, and if It finds out that I've gone, It'll probably lock me up for the next century or so." He rolled his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. Standing, Ed ruffled Al's hair into a messy tangle, before fading out of sight.

"Ah! Wai--!" Al shouted, lunging up from his seat to grasp at the now empty air where Ed had stood only moments before.

Al's angry expression morphed into something of a stunned look of silence when Ed disappeared. What sort of alchemy was that? No, it wasn't alchemy. It didn't follow the rules. But if it wasn't alchemy, then what was it?

"Mommy, look at that strange lady," a little boy whispered.

"Yes, that's nice," she whispered back, pulling him closer toward her.

He ignored the whispers that followed him as he left the café in a hurry. He had to talk to Mustang, however much he didn't like the man. Al knew he would probably refuse him, since he had only been gone for about an hour tops. But this was urgent.

"Uh, ma'am, your ticket!" the poor waiter called after the fleeing Al, but he was already gone.

Al was now 100% certain that this 'Ed' was really his brother Ed. There was no doubt. And he was obviously lying about his identity, or knowledge of his identity. He had to know why. And the only other person who knew his brother as much, if slightly less than himself, was Mustang.

Scrambling up the steps, he rushed into the building, ignoring the secretary completely in his haste. He tripped over his feet numerous times, walking at a near run toward Mustang's office.

And there it was, the familiar door looming over his head. Funny, it had never seemed to foreboding, so ominous, so… Silly. Here he was, the highly esteemed Elric, younger brother of _the_ Fullmetal Alchemist, and he was panicking about the size of a door.

He raised his knuckles to the scuffed wood.

"You don't want to do that," a voice to his left said.

"Ahhh! I told you not to do that, you jerk!" Al shouted back, not exactly caring who heard him. He didn't need to turn and look. He knew who it was.

Ed chuckled, "No need to shout, I'm standing right here."

Al didn't hear him, instead opting to shout even louder. "Look you! Whatever it is you did back there…" He trailed off, not exactly sure where he was going with this.

Ed shrugged, looking uncharacteristically bored.

"Don't a—," he was cut off by the abrupt opening of the door.

"Will you keep it down, out there? People in here are trying to work!" Roy Mustang shouted, having gotten up himself, since the stupid boy had woken him from his nap.

"Sorry, sir," Al mumbled, shooting a dirty look toward Ed.

Roy followed Al's gaze, knowing the boy had been talking to someone, and froze.

After a long pause, he finally managed, "…Ed?"

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**A/N:** And done... wow this took forever to get out. xD Thanks again to all you who reviewed, and please look forward to the next installment. Oh, and little side note here..... there are NO pairings in this fic, period. May or may not change later on, but the way it's going right now, no. So all you Elricest fangirls (yaoi, yuri, even the hets out there), sorreh to disappoint. __


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